


Howl of the Troll

by ChibiKame, NickkiDK



Category: Trolls (2016)
Genre: Gen, Sort of AU but can kind of work with the main verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-08 09:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12251211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibiKame/pseuds/ChibiKame, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NickkiDK/pseuds/NickkiDK
Summary: Hello, I’m back with a special Halloween treat! I’ve been working tirelessly on this story for about a month, and I’m excited to finally share it with everyone!This story is written and dedicated to the lovely Nikki-d-k/NickkiDK, whose both an amazing artist and writer, and had come up with such an amazing trollsona that I just HAD to write something for her for Halloween!She has a tumblr where you can see all her amazing artwork right here: https://nickki-d-k.tumblr.comAnd for post related to her trollsona, here’s this link: https://nickki-d-k.tumblr.com/search/ThicketAnd of course you can click her name above to check out her story!





	Howl of the Troll

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NickkiDK](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NickkiDK/gifts).



> Hello, I’m back with a special Halloween treat! I’ve been working tirelessly on this story for about a month, and I’m excited to finally share it with everyone!
> 
> This story is written and dedicated to the lovely Nikki-d-k/NickkiDK, whose both an amazing artist and writer, and had come up with such an amazing trollsona that I just HAD to write something for her for Halloween! 
> 
> She has a tumblr where you can see all her amazing artwork right here: https://nickki-d-k.tumblr.com
> 
> And for post related to her trollsona, here’s this link: https://nickki-d-k.tumblr.com/search/Thicket
> 
> And of course you can click her name above to check out her story!

With the shuffle of a few leaves, a teal-blue troll emerged behind a thick bush obstructing his intended path. “We’re here, Poppy,” Branch called out to the troll lagging behind him, “This is usually where Thicket forages. We should be right on time.”

Poppy followed behind him, just barely ducking from a twisted twig that would surely snag a few pink strands. Pausing just past the bush, she shook out the few twigs and leaves that managed to find their way into her hair, ponytail or not. “Geez Branch, when I said the quickest way possible, I didn’t mean _straight_ through a bunch of plants!”

“There’s no avoiding it, Popps, it get’s pretty dense around these woods.” So dense, in fact, that the shades of the tree prevented most of the bright daylight from peeking through the thick branches. A few fireflies and glowflys hovered elegantly around them, guiding the two trolls with just enough glow to permeate the shadows around them.

“I don’t see her anywhere,” The pink queen glanced around, searching for the one troll she went through all this trouble for. “Helloooo, THICKET!” She called out.

“Keep it down, Popps,” He shushed her with a single finger. “There’s no large predators here, but some mushroom sprites let out toxins when frightened. If Thicket’s here, she’ll find us before we find her.”

“Paranoid as ever,” Poppy chuckled, rolling her eyes at Branch’s overly cautious behavior. “This would be easier if you had bothered to find where she lived before.”

“Which would be an invasion to her privacy, and she’s even more of a shut in that I was.” Seeing that they were stopping their journey for now, Branch plopped his bag onto the ground and searched for the satchel of nuts he brought with him. Included was a twig of sage, which would surely alert Thicket to their location given that it didn’t grow around this area at all. “Why are we even doing this? There’s no way Thicket’s gonna come with a full moon this close, and she’s haven’t been to a Fright Night for the past six years.”

“But she’ll come this time; believe me Branch, I’ve got a plan B this time.” Poppy winked at the pessimistic troll before munching on the walnut Branch had given her.

He had a point though: Thicket had once enjoyed the Fright Night parties, the one time in the year the weretroll could join amongst the crowds without standing out, and could scare the wits out of the trolls without any serious or permanent repercussions. The children especially took a shine to the stranger; she had an interesting ability to shape her hair into the mouth of a rather realistic snarling wolf, so they had the time of their lives egging her on to show them her ability. Thicket, in turn, seemed to tolerate them, sometimes even answering their questions about weretrolls.

And then suddenly, she began to decline Poppy’s invitations. She would hole herself in Branch’s bunker instead, where the two would have their own little party; one that often involved binging on snacks, coming up with scary stories that other trolls could never stomach, and discussing how much they hated everything and everyone. Poppy herself began to ditch her own parties to join them for the last three years.

But now that everyone besides Thicket moved to the Troll Tree, Branch included, it was possible this year would be different, which was...rather sad, in Poppy’s opinion. She rarely got to see her weretroll friend on a regular basis, and Thicket absolutely _refused_ to accept that the Bergens had turned over a new leaf, so she stayed behind in whatever place she called home, even farther away from them now.

So Poppy was quite determined to have something, anything, with Thicket, and Fright Night was her best bet for that. She just has to find the girl first...

Lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t heard Branch’s warning about strange sounds or the rustle of leaves right in front of her until a large dark figure leapt out, casted in near darkness as the few glowflys scattered. Terrified, Poppy was knocked off her feet in her attempt to back away, dropping her snack along the way. The fear didn’t last long, however, once she recognized the figure; the very troll they’ve been looking for.

“Thicket!” She exclaimed happily, jumping right back up again.

Glowing yellow eyes blinked back at her. The troll was in her Timbre Wolf form, a canine creature much larger than a usual troll, but no more than the average Bergen’s hand. Poppy has seen this form a handful of times, once in neon green and purple - Thicket’s true colors - but mostly in black with subtle hues of a midnight rainbow, such as the case now.

“What’re you both doing out here?” She demanded in a rough, growling voice, not even turning first.

Not even answering, Poppy immediately began to hug the Timbre Wolf without an ounce of fear.

“Poppy.” Branch warned, taking a step forward. He knows full well how uncomfortable Thicket was with prolonged social contact, sometimes reacting poorly in such situations.

With her eyes closed, Poppy more felt the fur melt into fuzzy skin rather than saw it. Soon enough, Thicket had transformed back into her troll form, and Poppy pulled her head away to get a better look. Like Branch used to be, she was grey, but a tad duller shade. The curly black hair with subtle rainbow highlights rose just slightly before falling down in waves, with one curl purposely shaped like a crescent moon. It was the most unique hair Poppy had ever seen, and she never could help herself but to stare in awe. Part of the grey troll’s head was shaved, and in it’s place leopard spots inked into the skin. Her ears were also tattooed with little rectangular indentations. Thicket loved adorning her hair in cute accessories, most commonly a hairband with metal pieces of all the phases of the moon. Today, she wore various hairpieces themed for Fright Night; subtle, but showed she still had a little bit of that spooky spirit in her.

“Okay, okay, enough of that!” Thicket gently pried the pink girl’s arms off before pushing her away. “Geez, Popps, a warning next time!”

“I’m sorry, I’m just _SO_ happy to see you again!” Poppy moved forward for another hug, stopped only by the grey troll’s arms which kept her at a distance, up until Branch came forward and linked arms with Poppy, tugging her carefully away.

“Thicket.” He nodded at the grey troll’s direction.

“Branch.” She returned the gesture, arms crossed. “Blue’s a good look on you.”

He chuckled. “So you’ve said last time. Green and purple looks good on you as well.”

“Oh please,” Thicket rolled her eyes, “you get your colors back and now suddenly your all ‘bout the bright side of things.”

“Yoo-hoo, what about me?” Poppy waved her arms around, “Is pink good on me?”

The grey troll and the former grey troll shared a glance before teasingly smirking at Poppy.

“Oh I don’t know your majesty, perhaps too pale of a hue,” Thicket commented, as if appraising the quality of an art piece, “Maybe if it was just a tad more obnoxiously bright it’d suit you. What do you think Branch?” She gestured towards the blue troll with the tilt of her head.

“Agreed,” He agreed with a nod, fist under his chin in a thoughtful manner, “It’d have to drown out the sun and burn our retinas to complement _that_ personality.”  
Catching on, Poppy pouted like a child wrongfully scolded. “You two always pick on meeeee!” That at least managed to get a laugh out of both of them, and successfully easing the slightly tense atmosphere from before.

“Okay seriously, so what are you two doing far beyond happy-go-lucky land?” Thicket asked as soon as the laughter died down.

“Can’t just visit an old friend I rarely get to see?”

“This close to Fright Night? Not on your life, pal. I’m onto to you, and if it’s to go join your little celebration, it’s the same answer as the last few years.”

“Aww, but Thicket-“

“No buts, Queenie, even if I had planned on it and didn’t mind those so-called ‘ _friendly_ ’ giants, the full moon’s on Fright Night itself, the first time in thirty years in fact; I have to go on my trip tonight. Even if no one’s living in the village anymore, I can’t risk transforming here where a troll might stumble on me; they do still come around once in a while, after all. The fact you two are here just proves it’s a bad idea.”

“But I made you a card!” Poppy held out the invitation especially made for Thicket, as intricate as Branch’s invitations were, sans glitter. “And the kids really, really miss you, plus there’ll be lots of spooky-themed snacks like blood splatter licorice, and you’ll get to scare trolls and they’ll be perfectly fine with it-“

“Don’t you get it Popps?” Thicket growled, “A full moon means I’m forced to transform to a beast! Not a cute and fluffy puppy like you so eloquently like put it; a monster strong enough to slice you in half in a fit of rage!”

Seeing Poppy flinch gave Thicket a tinge of guilt, but she’s only trying to protect them; sure she has great control of her mind during her beast form, but just one small bout of anger, even if just for a second, would be too dangerous in her opinion. And the stress of being around trolls that were already pretty wary and scared of her could make it a possibility.

Thicket sighed deeply, “Look, I won’t lie that I sort of...miss Fright Night, but it’s better I keep a distance from everyone, especially during a full moon. And yes, that means _no_ slumber party either,” She added when Poppy opened her mouth to interject, “You two are my only friends, and that’s _exactly_ why I don’t want you around me in beast form.”

“Okay, okay, I understand,” Poppy sighed. _Time for Plan B_. “Buuut, you don’t have to go on your hiking trip this month!”

“I don’t” Thicket raised her eyebrow.

“She doesn’t?” Branch echoed equally confused.

“You can stay at the bunker!” Poppy exclaimed happily.

“ _What_!?!” Both companions yelled. Branch looked ready to protest, but a glare shot at him by Poppy shut him up.

“That’s right, it’ll be just like old times, but without Branch or me!” Poppy continued on. “Think about it, it locks on the inside to keep anyone but Branch entering, and Branch knows better than to hop in during the full moon.”

“I don’t know, Popps...”

“You’ll have plenty of room to run around, there’s lots of food so you won’t have to scavenge, you’ll - wait, there _is_ food still, right Branch?” Poppy stalled to ask.

“Oh yes, I left a back up supply that should last a tro-“

“There’s plenty of things to entertain yourself in there,” Poppy interrupted the blue troll, “You’ll have a comfy bed instead of snoozing on boulders-“

“I use a tent, you know.”

“And you won’t risk any encounters with predators! Also I know Spruce Wayne _loves_ those striped plums Branch had grown in the nearby tree.”

“Hey those are hard to-“ Poppy slapped her hand over his mouth.

“So how about it? It’s a win-win for you! And hey, you can even move in tonight!”

Thciket was immediately suspicious. One of Poppy’s most charming traits is her endless persistence; that was also her most annoying trait. Once she sets her mind on something, Poppy doesn’t stop until she gets what she wants...

Nah, Poppy knows better; she wouldn’t knowingly risk the safety of her fellow trolls just to throw a party with a weretroll on a full moon. _Right_?

And on the upside, no poison ivy, or getting covered in tree sap, having wild worms eat your supplies, hoping stones through some dangerous rapids...yeah, she’s definitely going to enjoy the bunker more.

“Y’know, maybe I’ll take you up on that.” She conceded.

“YES!!! You wont regret it, Thicket!” Poppy whooped, dancing with joy. “Branch and I will see you tonight then; we’ll move some furniture around so you’ll have plenty of room, and Branch can hand you the keys when you arrive!”

“That’s not necessary-“

“Maybe well just stay for the night ourselves!”

“Don’t push it, sister!”

“Okay, okay, no sleepover, but at least share a snack with us.”

“...Fine, see you tonight.”

“SWEET, catch you later, alligator! Come on Branch, we better get ready!” Poppy was already pulling the reluctant blue troll around, in the wrong direction, no less. Once she settled down and Branch began to guide her back towards the old village, their hands gravitated to each other.

Thicket couldn’t help the small smile gracing her face at the sight of her two lifelong friends together. She always had a hunch that Branch had been hiding a crush for the pink troll for years.

_“You know Branch,” She poked his ears teasingly as he hunched down on his desk, gluing pieces of the latest card together, “Maybe if you’d go to at least one party, she’d stop with the ridiculous invitations.”_

_“If you’re going to pester me, close the trapdoor on your way out.” He grumbled, still focused on his task._

_“Oooor, maybe you just LOVE it when she gives you them.” She snickered. Branch immediately jolted up and turned towards her, furious and flustered, nearly tripping on the chair in his haste._

_“I DO NOT!!!” He protested, panic edging in. “I DON’T LOVE ANYTHING!!!” But he was drowned out from her own laughter._

She’s happy for them, really. If she could spend a little more time with them, she’d never stop teasing Branch about his newfound relationship. It was best to keep a distance, though, not just for their safety, but for her own comfort as well. She’ll at least cherish the few moments she has with them...

—

With a single bag of a few necessities, and her pet bat Spruce Wayne perched comfortably on a nearby tree, Thicket reached the bunker by dusk. Interestingly, the keys and a note were set just atop the trapdoor entrance, waiting for her. The note told her to just hop in, that they’ll see her in just a bit. _They might’ve just went out to grab the snacks, or to make out by the lake._ That last thought made her chuckle.

Even more interesting, she was engulfed in darkness, save for the fading daytime peeking in; Branch usually would at least leave the lights on by the entrance. Luckily weretrolls have a heightened sense of vision to aid them through the night, so Thicket wasn’t completely handicapped. However, her eyes changed shape in order to see, and she knows sometimes Poppy would get weirded out, even if she tries to stay polite. So she reaches out for the light switch, momentarily closing her them in anticipation for the sudden brightness. Another setback with her unique eyes; even dim lighting took some time to adjust to.

She was puzzled when the light’s didn’t turn on, but shrugged it off. Maybe it just broke and they went to gather supplies to fix it. The bunker had been disused since Branch moved away, so she shouldn’t be surprised that something shorted out.

She might as well make her way to the main room; hopefully he left some of his poetry behind so she could find some good blackmail material to read. Maybe make some hot chocolate while she waits, as there’s no way Mr. “Chocolate is nutritious” doesn’t have a stash hidden somewhere...

After taking just a few steps into the rather short hallway, something large jumped out from the right wall. The shape of it told her it was a tarantapuff, and ignoring the brain that told her it was impossible it could fit past the trapdoor, reacted instantly with an attack towards it’s long front legs, it’s weak spot. She partially transformed her hands to that of sharpened claws, and sliced viciously through the creature.

It took her a few seconds to realize it was a fake image made of scrapbooking felt. She relaxed, no longer feeling a sense of danger. She edged closer for a better look; the life-size fake was so realistic, it was no question who would have the expertise to create it in such detail. Upon further inspection, it was bolted right into a modified trap, meaning Branch was in on it as well.

 _Oh, they are_ ** _so_** _gonna get it!_ She couldn’t help but chuckle and praise them for the trick, she never expected they had it in them.

There were a few more similar traps, each taking Thicket by surprise. Branch was just too good at camouflaging his traps for her to detect them beforehand, even the triggers have gone completely unnoticed until it was too late. At the end, a fake wingdingle skull lit up through it’s eyes just above the elevator, momentarily blinding Thicket. Once she blinked away the spots in her vision, she could see clearly that the elevator had been caged up and covered in crocheted cobwebs.

A little spider greeted her inside the cage with a big smile and several blinking eyes. This was no fake; it was real!

“Hello.” It whispered in a deep but squeaky voice.

“Wow, hello.” _What a cutie_ , she couldn’t help but extend her hand to let it crawl over her. Definitely a harmless little guy; she wonders where Branch ever found him. “You wouldn’t happen to be in on this, too?”

The little green spider effortlessly hopped right off the elbow he had been perched on to the lever. He tapped it several times to indicate she should touch it.

“Oh? Go down?” The spider tapped on it again in response. He jumped back on Thicket, this time her shoulder, once she began the descent, enjoying a little scratch on the chin.

Thicket had gone down to the lowest level of the bunker nearly every visit, and it had always relatively remained the same, save for the additional rooms and levels over the years. But this time the walls of the crooked vertical shaft was practically covered in dripping red paint; handprints, footprints, warnings and calls for help, even the full body of a small troll as if making a snow angel.

Her focus on the walls were cut short quickly as she passed one of the first rooms visible from the elevator; it had been decorated as a graveyard site; a fog machine hidden somewhere and, strangely, copious amounts of glitter everywhere. Little wisps of the fog caught themselves inside the elevator as she passed by, dissipating without a trace seconds later.

The next room had a figure made of twigs roped together, with the head of pumpkin just small enough to fit half the room; the pumpkin was carved with a sinister expression and the figure was crawling and reaching out for the elevator’s occupants. Thicket had to give props to whoever managed to pull it off with so little head room. The chef’s hat and curly blue wig was an odd touch though, as if the artist was trying to depict a specific character.

She could briefly see that one room contained troll skeletons (fake, hopefully) wearing fashionable costumes in several poses, and another one looked like the kind of nightmare scenario many trolls imagined occurring in the Bergen castle kitchen on Trollstice. That one especially got a shudder out of her.

So distracted she hadn’t realized she finally reached the bottom of the bunker until the elevator gave a minuscule jolt before ceasing any more movement. The main room, her destination, was encased in darkness much like the hallway. Eerie, wordless music echoed from an unknown location, but it did nothing to hide the soft whispers and faint noises of movement. It was unnerving, given that she couldn’t even see the faintest shadow of anyone, yet all instincts told her she was certainly not alone. The fuzz of her arms raised up in alert and she could feel strand of her hair sprout from her skin as she prepared to transform and go on the offense.

“TRICK OR TREAT!!!”

“BOO!!!”

“HAPPY FRIGHT NIGHT EVE!!!”

Warm light engulfed the room just as a dozen or so trolls, including Poppy herself, popped out of their hiding places to shout. It nearly gave Thicket a heart attack, and caused her to transform midway; her arms and cheeks covered in hair, and her nails and teeth sharpened to razor edges. As soon as she realized what was happening, her body changed again to its normal state, save for a little extra hair here and there. It was the same group of children that always wanted her to scare them every Fright Night, now six years older than the last time she encountered them.

“Ay, you munchkins looking to scare me _dead_?” She cackled at the inside joke, for once not hiding her delight as the troll children tackled her down in their embraces, speaking all at once, though the gist of what she could hear was pretty much how much they missed her.

Thicket’s discomfort over any form of physical contact quickly overcame her, to their dismay “Alright, alright, off before I shove you!” They whined but relented, a few lucky ones getting a good hair ruffling. The only child left was one Thicket was not familiar with; a green-skinned toddler currently peeking out of her hair as if he/she had always been there.

“Happy Halloween,” The child sounded rather monotone, but not in a bored way. Reaching to take the kid off, Thicket was surprise to see the child’s eyes...well...not very focused. The little green spider that had been perched on her shoulder was now being held by the kid.

“Halloween?” Some children tilted their head in confusion. “Keith, you’re weird.”

“Sorry, that’s Keith, his babysitter refused to show up anymore, so I offered to take him.” Poppy finally managed to make her way up front as soon as she dragged Branch out of his hiding spot, scolding him for missing the cue.

“You two...” Thicket shook her head, trying to be disappointed, but unable to help the small smirk escape her.

“Surprise!” Poppy waved her hands around. She then harshly nudged Branch and gestured to Thicket. With the roll of his eyes and a deep sigh, Branch unenthusiastically mimicked Poppy.

“What’s this? You know I hate surprises, Popps.” Thicket handed Keith over to Poppy, who settled the funny kid and his spider companion protectively inside her hair.

“Yeah, but you hate _everything_ , so I couldn’t really go wrong,” Poppy shrugged, “Since you wouldn’t come to Fright Night this year, and couldn’t have a sleepover with us, I made you...drum roll please!” The children slapped their knees out of sync. “A Fright Night **_Eve_** party!!!” She shot a miniature confetti cannon up towards the ceiling; speckles in orange, lime green and purple rained down on their heads.

“No shi...shingles.” Thicket managed to catch herself from saying a bad word in front of children.

“That’s right, we’ve turned the _entire_ bunker into a spooky, scary, and haunted party, just for you! Look, we’ve even gottten snacks.” Poppy held out a bowl of red licorice made to look like blood splatters. “Your favorite.”

“I like how they look like blood,” Keith replied as he snatched one as well and slinked back into...Thicket’s hair...

“Sorry, he does that a lot,” Poppy quickly retrieved Keith back, “No one knows how.”

“You know, Popps, I didn’t ask for any of this,” Thicket grumbled, clutching the bowl possessively, “You scared the wits out of me, I could’ve hurt someone!” She scarfed down her treat as if it was popcorn. “You tricky little thing, I oughta get you for that...” The rest was too distorted to understand due to the massive amount of candy inside the grey troll’s mouth.

“Well, you’re welcome anyway. Aaaaaaand, you’re probably also wondering: _Poppy, however did you pull this off?_ ” Poppy tried to mimic Thicket with a lower voice and a grumpy expression that was so unbecoming on the pink troll. “I knew you’d probably say no anyway, so the Snack Pack, the kids and I had this whole place decked out two nights ago!”

Thicket gulped down the food she had been chewing on. “And let me guess, you didn’t tell Branch and-“

“ _Stole_ my keys from my secret cupboard!” Branch grumbled just behind Poppy. “ _And_ broke into my home to do that!” He pointedly accused the Queen, who fluttered her eyes at him sweet.

“Aww, but I knew you wouldn’t let me use the bunker if I had asked, you’re still so attached to it, it’s downright sad.” She gave a peck on the cheek and giggled cutely when it left him a stuttering, flustered mess, unable to retort back. Thicket joined in with a snicker.

Boy did she miss Fright Night; gorging on massive amounts of free candy, scaring trolls and them actually liking it, teaching the little ones about weretrolls and giving them handmade hair accessories...

Yeah, and never fitting in, even for that one night. And never escaping the crowds even when she was just on the edge of it a second ago, and the occasional trolls that overreacted...

_“Honeydew, home this instant!” A mother screeched as she scooped up her little girl, who had just a moment ago pulled on the wolf tail Thicket had forgotten was there. She had yelped, sure, but she hadn’t glared or even came off as threatening as far as she was concerned, even managing to hold back a growl._

_Even on Fright Night, she couldn’t always escape the stigma. It wasn’t long before the other parents cautiously but politely corralled their own children. And for once Thicket didn’t like the fact she was standing alone in a crowd of hundreds._

_“Thicket, Thicket! Scare us again, please! Like you used to do!” The very same girl, Honeydew, pleaded to the weretroll for the children’s favorite trick._

But this wasn’t Fright Night; this was Fright Night _Eve_ ; this was a small party with only those she had ever felt comfortable being herself with, and it was Poppy of all trolls that managed to pull it off. Poppy really is a true friend.

“Alright, you naughty brats need a good scare?” She grinned down at them, “What’s the phrase again? I think I forgot...” She feigned cluelessness.

“Trick or Treat! Trick or Treat!” They jumped excitedly, some already covering their faces in anticipation.

“Trick or Treat? Hmmmm, I think I’ll go with... _TRICK_!!!” She shaped her hair into the mouth of a Timbre Wolf, making growling noises for effect. It was something she previously used to deter trolls aiming to hug her during hug time, but somehow it caught the interest of the young trollings, who found it enjoyable for some reason.

Some screamed, some squealed, and some even cowered, but the trollings had a blast and enjoyed the fright Thicket gave them, and soon were laughing it off, with a few of the older ones claiming they hadn’t been scared at all.

She did the same thing several more times, even catching Poppy by surprise, though Branch remained unaffected, as always.

Now that the children were a little older, some of them were now into hair accessories. Thicket didn’t have any spares made, but hadn’t minded parting with the few she’d been wearing. She told spooky tales, judged the children’s costumes, carved out drawings on the one tiny pumpkin they managed to haul in, and even went outside to let the children meet and climb over her pet bat Spruce, who was more than happy with the extra attention. They rounded up the night sneaking through the bunker, trying to surprise one another. Though none of the children were able to actually scare Thicket, she faked her terror for their benefit.

Keith, well...had to be watched carefully after he was found holding a kitchen knife. Branch volunteered, and _immediately_ regretted it.

It was a fantastic night, though it wasn’t long before it was time to return the trollings home. They entered the Catterbus in single line, chatting about how amazing the Fright Night Eve party was, and their plans for tomorrow’s festivities and candy gathering as well.

“Please, _take_ him with you.” Branch eagerly offered the green spider to Keith. “He’s not even mine, he just keeps showing up wherever I go.” The spider still smiled happily, even as he was handed off to the weird toddler.

“I’m sure my parents will like you, Beetle,” Keith spoke to his new pet, “We can surprise them tomorrow morning by hiding in the cupboard and screaming when mom gets the flour.” Branch kept his mouth shut and pretended he hadn’t heard that; not his problem anymore.

After Poppy and Branch returned, the three of them ended up having their sleepover after all. Aside from the typical routine, they enjoyed the very first movie ever jointly created by bergens and trolls, viewed on a bergen-made invention called a television, which Branch had managed to recreate in troll size.

“UGH! Stoping being such a d**k _Joy_!” Thicket flipped the on-screen troll actress off.

“Yeah, let Sadness have her goddamn breakdown!” Branch booed and threw caramel popcorn, acting much like he once did when he was grey.

“...I don’t think we’re watching the same movie,” Poppy replied more to herself, as her two friends continued to drag the actress into the mud. Sometimes she wonders if she’ll ever fully understand them.

-

The next day they’ve cleared the remaining party decorations after an early breakfast, and climbed onto Spruce to return home.

“We’ll keep in touch,” Branch and Thicket fist bumped, “If it turns out well, feel free use the bunker every full moon.”

“If it does, maybe I should just move right in.” Thicket joked.

“.... **no**.”

“Maybe I’ll start a hair clip collection in the old work out room.” She smirked back at the fuming blue troll.

“I’ll be counting those keys when I get them back,” He warned, “I _better_ have forty-eight!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Thicket yawned, waving him off, “I’ve enough of your lecturing, go back to your neon pink pod to sing about rainbows or whatever.”

“That’s _exactly_ what I’ll do!” His eyes widened and his cheeks darkened. “Er, but not in a pink pod! I don’t live in one!”

“Sure, of course not.” She winked and gestured to Poppy.

Catching on, the pink troll only leered at her blue companion before turning away, arms crossed and head held high. “Let’s go already.” Was all Poppy said.

“Ouch, the cold shoulder.” Thicket whispered in Branch’s ears with a snicker. Branch merely groaned and climbed on Spruce, sitting right next to his angered girlfriend.

As they were lifting off and towards home, Branch spoke to the pink troll; “Hey, strawberry pie, if this is about yesterday, I was just fooling around. Joy is a wonderful, perfect character.”

“Hmph!”

Branch had said something else, but by then was too far out of earshot for her, though it sounded like he was about to recite something poetically cheesy that Popt was sure to fall head over heels for.

Last night was fun, and any time spent with her two friends was welcomed, but Thicket embraced the silence that followed their departure. She’s a lone wolf, after all, and always will be.

She decided to spend a good portion of the day running around in her Timbre Wolf form. The more energy she gets out of her system, the less destructive her Weretroll form will be. She had to be careful not to overdo it, as the transformation alone was tiring. She’s not sure if she could accidentally kill herself from exhaustion, but she sure isn’t going to find out.

She visited the old, abandoned village; once a place bursting with activity, and one she tended to avoid as much as possible. Now, it was strangely quiet, with nature slowly encasing it in untamed vines. Poppy has decided to eventually resettle some of the troll population in this area, but for now it remained in the state it was left at. The unkept pods had shriveled up and wilted, some already falling off their perch. It was a ghost town, and any stranger that were to stumble upon the remnants of the village would likely ponder over what unfortunate event had befallen upon this former civilization.

Thicket knew better of course; they were all alive and well back in their new home, at least for the moment; she still won’t believe the BEugene changed overnight, but she also knows Branch is just as cautious and already had a few, well laid out plans composed just in case, which helped eased her own concerns for their well beings.

She ventured away from the former village into other areas she had previously rarely set foot on due to it’s usage by the other trolls; the lake that had always been swarmed by the teenage crowd, a flower field that held the old camping grounds, the greenhouse that still manages to grow some food, albeit overgrown and claimed by wild critters. It was like new lands opened up in her own backyard, and she’s taken the habit of visiting these places since the great move.

It wasn’t long before the day had been spent. She ends her day high in the sky, nestled into the fur of her bat, who had returned hours ago, watching the remainder of the descending sun fall below the horizon. And from behind her, the moon rising up to take it’s place. The full moon will happen in about five hours, according to her lunar calendar. It will only truly last for a split second, although it’s effect on her will go on until the sun once more returned from the opposite end it had disappeared from. Sometimes she returns to a normal state sooner than that, as the moon’s power quickly weakens on it’s waning phase.  
She looks to the star symbol resting on the palm of her hand; the Mark of the Beast, one she was born with, like a gem troll’s gem and a glitter troll’s glitter.

How long was it since she last saw this same mark on another troll’s hand? The former weretroll tribe had stayed close by to the troll tree for reasons she couldn’t recall why. They eventually left as the threat of BEugene increased. And she remained behind...because what would be the point, without her _parents_?

She didn’t like to think too much of her parents, the last time she saw them alive, or the careless pack of pups whose rowdy roughhousing led to their demise. The ill feelings towards her old tribe stuck to her for many years, to the point she rather stay behind with trolls that feared her than with the ones she could relate to most. Once in a while during her flights with Spruce, she could hear faint howling from the southwestern part of the forest, back in an old, old troll tree from long ago. And for her monthly hiking trips she purposely avoided that specific direction.

What would she be like had she’d gone with them? Still anti social and introverted? Or as aggressive and rough as those pups had been? It was food for thought, but she didn’t regret her decisions.

Two hours before the full moon; she’s climbing down the tree which that Spruce had settled in, inside a hollow, chowing down on plump purple fruit with deep red stripes. As she climbed down the trunk she could see the moon, higher in the sky and now tainted and orange hue. _A harvest moon_ ; she wonders if It would have any sort of new effect on her transformation; the weretroll tribe would know perhaps, not that she’d ever purposely encounter them to ask. 

One hour left; she does her best to clear the main room of the bunker to avoid causing too much damage, even though Branch had already taken most of his important valuables along with him. Sadly, that also meant all his poetry, or at least they were very well hidden. All there was left were survival guides and various how-to books.

Ten minutes left: she found just enough scrap fabric to make a few hair accessories. She shaped them like pieces of candy, miniature versions of Spruce, even like the little spider she met last night. When she returns home she can finish placing them in fasteners and replace the hairpieces she parted with last night.

She knows the full moon has finally come when she suddenly feels her body growing and changing, hair sprouting in various places, her teeth and fingers sharpening, her mind staring to cloud, though not enough that she wouldn’t be aware of what was happening later. Full moon transformations were the absolute worst in her book; she has no control over them, and she always worried what damage she might do considering she was more prone to anger.  
The change is quick and painless, and once finished left her looking much like she had only changed halfway to Timbre form, but even larger and more menacing. Any troll that would happen to have crossed her path would likely be petrified with horror, and she wouldn’t blame them, as those that weren’t of her kind probably consider the transformation to be unnaturally terrifying.

She couldn’t help the howl she emitted at the end of her transformation, one could say it was hauntingly beautiful, and melodic enough to be its own song. It’s a shame it could never be heard by the other trolls, as she had to keep her distance for their sake.

She was born a weretroll, and therefore had great control over her forms, but all it takes is one little accident to seriously harm or even _kill_ another.

Not even Poppy had seen beast form. Branch had, but it had been sheer coincidence that he’d taken to foraging a part of the forest he previously avoided. They had only been acquaintances back then, but after that encounter, when he refused to view her any differently than before, they became good grumpy buddies, hanging out occasionally to vent about the other trolls. Of course, if was after that encounter that she’d gone through the trouble of hiking as far away as possible, hoping to completely diminish any possibilities of a second time.

The rest of the night came by in a blur, but one she could still comprehend, like watching the world through a window with a little fog around the edges. She mainly ran around from room to room, sniffing everything and howling once in a while. While large enough for a troll, the bunker proved to be slightly cramped during her beast form, and she found herself even more likely to act out in rage due to bumping her head far too many times in one of the narrower, low-ceiling chambers. She left quite a few claw marks on the walls as well, some by accident and some in anger. Good thing Branch didn’t care too much about the condition of his old home.

It ended in a flash, somewhere just outside one of the smaller rooms, though at this point her vision was too unfocused to know exactly where. Her eyelids felt heavy, almost immediately she blacked out.

Only when she came to the next morning did she recognize her surroundings...the sweat jar room.

“GROSS!!!” She stumbled backwards, away from the offending jars, and straight down the elevator shaft, face planting at the very bottom.

“ _$%@#%_!” She groaned, rubbing her nose that took the brunt of the impact. Her head throbbed as if she had a little too much to drink, her entire body was sore from both the transformation and from running through the bunker all night. She likely have only been unconscious for an hour or two at most, and she felt it for sure. On top of it all, she was starving

So hiding in the bunker wasn’t as ideal as she thought it would be. On one hand, food and security. On the other, cramp spaces and...that _other_ thing.

She swiped whatever food looked most appetizing (in her state, all of it), and high tailed out of there, more than eager to leave the stuffy atmosphere. In fact, she had never been more elated to be outside, a breeze washing away any lingering smells of dirt the moment she popped her head out the trapdoor.

Spruce swooped right in to greet her, his long tail snaring a looped flower stalk so he could perch upside down just an inch from the ground.

“Heya boy, had a good night?” She scratched his neck, and he responded back with the lick of his long tongue. He fluttered his wings, a sign he was ready for another flight. “Now? Come on, I need some shut eye, let’s just head home.” Spruce made whiny squeaks that always managed to make her heart ache, flapping his leathery wings more aggressively. She rolled her eye, patting him roughly. “Fine, you darn flying rat, but only ten, maybe twenty minutes tops.” Delighted, the bat was already twisting his body around so she’d grab onto the scruff of his back.

The morning air was chilly, especially for this time of the year, which at least helped to keep her woke enough. She had to hold on tighter than normal, shivering all the way.

_Can’t wait for home, my good ol’ bed and some piece of mind. She grumbled to herself. And later I’ll take another run around the river bend, maybe even check the outskirts of Bergen Town, no way I’m going inside there..._

Her thoughts wavered as her ears caught a rather familiar sound: howling. Faint, distant, and coming from the southwestern edge.

She knows for sure they hadn’t flown nearly close enough to the weretroll village.

“....Ehh, _probably_ nothing.” She shrugged and turned her thoughts to what flower petals she had to make purple dye.


End file.
